He pocketed the draft, then saluted Drake, but before he could turn away, Drake said, “One last thing…”
Something in Drake’s voice made Toby freeze and set his instincts on high alert. When Drake didn’t continue, Toby asked, “What?”
“Much against my will, this will be your last mission for me and the Crown.”
Toby frowned. “Why?”
Drake sighed. “Because it’s been borne in on me from multiple quarters—your family, my family, the grandes dames, half of whom are related to either you or me, as well as umpteen hostesses—that I need to stop giving you an excuse to flee the capital whenever you choose.”
Toby scowled. “That’s ridiculous.”
Drake met his gaze. “Sad to say, it’s not. That, old son, is life in the haut ton, and you as well as I were born into it. And as you very well know, in such matters, there is no escape.”
* * *
